A Step in Time
by finallyxfound
Summary: Buffy is the newest "It" girl in Hollywood and when an offer comes that seems perfect for her, she doesn't waste any time making a bid for it. Problem is that the part requires dancing, and she...can't dance. Enter Spike.
1. A Step Forward

**Author's Notes**: Hey again. It's me with these speratic-every-fifteen-minute-story ideas again. This one is a Spike Buffy thing. It will have all the characters of _Angel_ and _Buffy_ featured, someway, somehow, but the main characters are Spike and Buffy. I don't know when I'll get a chance to update this so for right now, this is all you get. I hope you enjoy.

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****Part One**

Willow walked into her new and lavish corner office. This was great, absolutely great. She loved being the agent of one of the hottest stars in Hollywood, although if you referred to Buffy Summers as a star, she would tell you that she wasn't. She didn't like that word: star; at least not when referred to as her.

Setting one of her boxes of stuff on her new desk, Willow reached for the blinds cord and stretched it back, watching the sun slowly shine into the corner space that she could now call her own. She loved this and she couldn't wait to make the space her own. The first thing that would change were the blinds, they were just too…blah and definitely not her style.

"Knock, knock, knock," Buffy announced herself to Willow and stood in the doorway. Willow turned around and greeted her headliner with a big smile. Buffy, who was mostly legs, gracefully walked into Willow's new office and looked around.

"Hello my little starlet."

"Wills, I told you, I'm not a starlet. I'm just an actress," Buffy corrected her.

"Just an actress who gave me a corner office, snagged six Golden Globe nominations and…"

"And is thinking of going brunette."

"What?" Willow thought she heard right but she had that selective hearing syndrome like everyone else.

"Brunette. You know, dark hair, you know just to spice things up a bit," Buffy pointed out, twirling a strand of her golden hair to trick her friend into thinking that she was serious. "I'm kidding Will, don't get so worried," she assured her, pulling out a chair that was flush against the wall and sitting in it. "So, what's next?"

"Oh, let's see…Globes, Emmys, then I think we'll go for the Oscars," Willow rambled off, walking to the other side of her desk and unpacking whatever she had stuffed in that one box.

"Will, you know what I mean, what's next?"

"You tell me. I have about fifteen offers on the table for you right now with more coming in by the minute. We need to go through them and pick and choose," Willow said, tossing stacks of paper onto her desk and fishing out the little bobblehead turtles that she had a fetish for.

"Tell me about them."

"The turtles?"

"The offers," Buffy emphasized, placing her purse on the floor and getting up to help Willow go through the box.

"Well, there's an action one with Daniel Osborne, even though an action film for him is odd, but the director is dying to have you in. There's also another one where you could be queen of the jungle," Willow explained some of the roles that stood out in her mind.

"Those sound," Buffy pictured herself in an outfit less than a bikini and vetoed that one right away and the one with Daniel Osborne in it…well, let's just say he wasn't her first pick for an action hero and she was in no way ready to play a Bond girl, at least not yet. Looking up to Willow, her expression gave away her answers to those prospects, "What else you got?"

Spike finally got a chance to sit down for a moment when the door to his dance studio opened and the door chimes rang in his ear. He hoped it was Faith, his good friend and dance partner. At least one of his employees would show up on time today. Andrew had been call in every other day for lord knows what reason and Spike didn't really expect him to show up at all, he was lucky if he did. And Anya, oh, he didn't even want to get started on her. He still didn't know what she did around the studio, yet he still paid her when she showed up.

Waiting for the first 'hello' or 'hey, anybody here yet' of the morning, Spike leaned back on the chaise lounge that was stuffed in his tiny office and lifted his feet up on the edge of his desk. Closing his eyes for a moment, he could at least try and get in a few moments of rest before the lessons started for today.

"Yo, you in here?" Too late, he thought as Faith's voice ruined his few minutes planned rest. "You know, I should be used to this by now, you sleeping at ten o'clock in the morning," she strolled into his office as he peeked his eyes open. Tossing her jacket onto the chair and laying her purse on the desk, she spotted Spike's open eyes and waved at him, "Hiya, Spike."

"Hi Faith and before anything else is said, I've been up since six o'clock."

"Sure ya have," she raised her eyebrows and sat down behind the desk, hinting that she wasn't fully convinced of his statement. He leaned back in his chair, not caring if she believed him or not.

He had down a lot of things this morning: he unclogged the bathroom sink, repaired the balance bar that lined up with the window looking out into the busy streets of Hollywood, and he even repaired the flickering lights that technically were supposed to be fixed by Andrews. But the last time Andrew tried to fix the lights, they fell on his head and he hadn't been the same since.

"Who we got today?" Faith's voice raided his thoughts as he poked open an eye to see her behind his desk again.

"Don't know, don't care right now," he commented, shutting his eyes close again.

"Oh, why we got Mrs. Dunn, I can't wait to see her," Faith sarcastically continued the spotty conversation. Faith hated Mrs. Dunn. Mrs. Dunn was one of those people that even though she was the student, she acted like you were. "Ooo, and Lily is coming in today."

Oh, she was working it. "Don't play the nice card with me Faith. You hate Mrs. Dunn and the only reason you mentioned Lily is so you can see how that cruise was with my dad."

"So? I happen to like cruises."

"You get sea sick looking at a boat," he told her. Spike opened his eyes and pulled his arms back behind his head, smirking her way so she could get sassy with him like always.

"No I don't," she argued.

"The only reason you're getting excited over Lily is because you want to know what's up with my dad," he revealed to his best friend. Pulling his feet down from the desk and sitting up on the chaise lounge, he knew that his rest was over.

Everyone liked his dad, the great sensation that was Richard Bartlett, everyone but him that is. He was an okay dad, he guessed, but Spike didn't really know him. Richard Bartlett was either on tour with a play, on the movie sets or dancing at a club somewhere downtown, more often the latter. He hardly had any time for his son or his three wives. Spike thought it funny that he actually followed in his father's footsteps and became a dancer.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he forced himself to get up off the chaise lounge and stood up in front of the desk. Pressure was already starting to get to his feet when he stood and he could hardly wait for the day to be over already.

"Come on," Faith rounded the desk and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the office and onto the shiny hardwood dance floor, "let's do a number." Arguing with her was pointless as she already had turned the festive salsa music on for them to dance to. Great, he thought, it was ten a.m. and he was tired. Dancing with Faith would probably add to that tiredness and wake him up at the same time.

Pulling his arms around her tiny frame, Faith started to step her way into a mambo and Spike followed along. Mambo in the morning always woke him up.

"Heroine of a romantic comedy?"

"Nah, I want something good…and interesting," Buffy elaborated for Willow, who went over one of the many offers they had received thus far and were still getting more in by the minute.

"You can't get much more interesting than that, Buffy," Willow set aside the offer in the maybe pile. The no pile was much larger than the maybe pile and no matter which way you looked at it, Buffy was picky. Very picky.

Willow ran her hands through her short red hair and stretched a bit, she had been sitting at her desk for more than two hours and although she was used to it, Buffy shooting down good parts that she thought were interesting was too much.

"And the Golden Globe goes to…" Xander Harris, long time friend of Willow's and Buffy's manager popped his head into her new office and thankfully, brought some food with him.

And a snack between breakfast and lunch always did Willow good, even if the snack was salty, greasy, packed with carbs and calories. "Oooo, mine," Willow grabbed the bag out of Xander's hands and stuck hers in it, not wasting any time getting two or three of the chips in her mouth.

"Hungry Will?" Xander asked as he and Buffy started at her.

"Wha? Camph't a grfl emat?" Willow responded, her words muffled as the chips were stuffed in her mouth.

Xander smirked at her and turned his attention back to Buffy. "So, I think congratulations are in order," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her tight in one of his famous Xander bear hugs that everyone loved so much.

"Thanks Xander," she responded, hugging him back and then stepping backwards to smile at him.

"So, what's next?" he asked with hopeful intentions.

"That's what we've been trying to figure out," Buffy explained, taking a seat back in the chair she had been sitting in for the better part of the morning.

"She even turned down the lead in _The Tigress_," Willow emphasized, wiping her hands of the grease that was embedded on the potato chips that were now gone. She knew the importance of the role and so did Xander, thus his expression of utter shock when she told him.

"The one with Liam Angel and Cordelia Chase and Darla Jones and…"

"Yep."

"Oooo, why'd you do that?" Xander snapped his head around and looked at Buffy, who was lounging in the chair and listening to her representation's conversation about her future.

Buffy shrugged her shoulders in response to her manager's question. It's not that she didn't want to work with Liam Angel or Cordelia Chase or even two time Oscar winner Darla Jones, it's just that the role didn't interest her. And prancing around in a Tarzan and Jane type outfit around the set, wasn't exactly the part she had in mind.

"Well, that's okay, because I think I have something that you'd be interested in."

"Really?" Buffy sat up straight and asked excitedly, "what is it?" Now she was paying attention. When Xander had an offer on the table, she paid attention. The role that got her the Globe nominations was one he suggested.

"There's this new film, that just got the okay from Paramount and I'm surprised that you haven't heard about it," Xander explained, turning his attention to Willow and then back to Buffy, "it's a good part, and I think we should give it consideration."

"I feel a but coming on," Willow said, marking on a piece of paper the prospect of a new film for Buffy.

"Big but, uh, there's dancing," Xander explained as he started to walk about Willow's office, twisting the blinds to let a little more sunlight in than Willow liked. He was waiting for the argument as he knew there was going to be one. It was either going to be him who started it or Buffy, and he was betting on Buffy.

"Xander, she can't dance. Have you forgotten the incident?" Willow brought up.

"Yea, I remember and I know she has two left feet and loves to step on other people's toes…"

"I'm not that bad," Buffy stuck up for herself and into their conversation. She didn't think she was that bad. But then again, Xander did have a point. She loved stepping on toes, literally had two left feet and was coordinated at all.

She remembered the incident all too well. It was New Year's Eve and all three of them plus her baby sister Dawn were at a gala being hosted by Paramount Studios. Everything was going great and she was having a great time that was until Parker Johnson, one of the studio heads asked her to dance. She recalled punch being flown up in the air after they knocked into the table, her gold Vera Wang dress being soaked, his foot getting broken and countless other things that she would like to forget.

"Yes you are and I, the all powerful and great Xander, have a solution."

"Which is?" Buffy asked, wanting to know how she and they were going to be this off. Okay, so he was right, she couldn't dance but there was literally no one who could or would teach her to dance. It was a suicide mission, for them and her.

Xander turned to face Buffy and looked into her minty green eyes, "you learn."


	2. Stepping In

**Part Two**

Buffy looked up at the faded sign to the dance studio. She was nervous. How could that be? She was never nervous, except when she had a big date but this wasn't a big date, it was a dancing lesson. She was never nervous when it came to auditions, never. She usually just walked up to the casting director, told them why she wanted the part, read a few lines and left. But this was different…this wasn't an audition. This was feet moving in sync with another's; this was finding rhythm and swaying to a beat that was either too fast or too slow or maybe a little bit of both for her.

The dance studio was located in the Back Hills of Hollywood, the place were all the great legends were made; Gene Kelly, Cyd Charisse, and Ann Miller, just to name a few and Buffy was definitely not ready to put her name on that list. It would be nothing short of a miracle if her name showed up on that list someday.

Backing away from the studio door, she changed her mind; she didn't want to do this. She was about ready to run when Xander and his broad shoulders stopped her in her tracks.

"Nice try Blondie, let's go," Xander nodded towards the door of the studio and grabbed onto her hand just to make sure she wouldn't bolt.

Her palms were sweaty and she knew he noticed. How could he not? The word _Bartlett_ had faded on the clear glass door they had walked in and Buffy wondered if it was any relation to the Bartlett she knew of: Richard Bartlett. He was a legend; he was to Broadway what Gene Kelly was to Hollywood and when Richard Bartlett got his break in Hollywood, there was no turning back. Just like there was no turning back for her at this moment.

They were in the studio now and Buffy's eyes wandered around as Xander loosened his grip around her elbow and reached to ding the bell that was sitting on the front counter when they both heard his name yelled from across the dance studio floor.

"Alexander Harris!" A woman, blonde and not much taller than Buffy came stomping her way up to Xander and had a furious look on her face. Crossing her arms, the woman eyed him and Buffy watched the two interact, in a way.

"Anya, hi."

"Don't 'hi' me mister, where the hell have you been?"

"Around. Is Spike of Faith around?" Xander tried to change the subject but it was no use as she snapped at him again.

"Don't change the subject Xander. Where've you been? You said you would call."

"It's been a day, An…"

Their conversation went on while Buffy drowned it out and the music in the background surrounded her head and caught her ears. It was a jazzy number, something that anyone could swing their hips to, except for her. It was upbeat with a trumpet echoing an intense beat throughout the studio.

Buffy's eye caught sight of two silhouettes that merged into one beyond the beaded curtain that separated the entrance from the actual studio. They swayed together like two lovers in the dark of night. The beat got faster and they broke apart, walking about the room and circling back to each other. Arms were stylized in a way of seduction and legs pulled them back to each other once again.

Entangled in each other's arms, the dancers turned and twisted in different directions as they stepped together in accord and moved around the hardwood floor. The man took the lead again, supporting the woman's back as she dipped back into an arch and came back up again into his arms. Twisting her body around and letting her hand go, she walked off as the song ended and the man watched her stroll away. The music died down and Buffy's attention was brought back to Xander Anya's conversation as he wanted to introduce them to each other.

"Xander, you said you'd call," Anya still whined to him.

"Anya, I'll call you tonight, I promise," Xander reassured her, rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms. She returned a forgiving smile back at him and Xander's gaze shifted over to Buffy and Anya's followed.

"Anya, I'd like you to meet…"

"Buffy Summers, oh my gosh, you're Buffy Summers," Anya said, like a typical surprised and sometimes honored fan.

"Yea, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Anya and you're Buffy Summers," Anya repeated her name for the third time. Buffy just smiled back and waited for the formal introductions to start.

"Anya, I think she knows her own name," the woman from the dance came up to the counter and commented, hoisting herself up and grabbing something on the desk behind. Long brunette hair was pulled up into a ponytail and her stiletto heels made her at least six feet tall, much taller than Xander at the moment. Hopping back down from the counter and finished her notes on a piece of paper, she reached her hand out to Buffy and introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Faith."

"Hi, I'm Buffy, but you probably know that already and you're a great dancer and I love those shoes and I'm doing it again, aren't I?" Buffy directed the last question towards Xander. He nodded his head and she knew this wasn't a good idea. "Sorry, I ramble when I'm nervous."

"I do that too. Hi Xander, you need Spike?" Faith assured her and asked Xander.

"Yeah, we're going to need all the help we can get."

Buffy snapped her head around and stuck her tongue out at him even though it was the truth. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down the rest of her nerves as Faith called out for this Spike to show his face. "Are you sure about this?" Buffy looked back to her manager and asked again, a serious worried look in her eyes.

"You want this part?"

"Yea."

"Then yes, I'm sure," Xander reassured her as he let go of Anya's hand and went to Buffy's side. "Look, Spike and I may butt heads most of the time, but he's the best and he can do miracles."

"I'm a miracle case now?"

"Close."

"Thanks," Buffy said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Xander let his hand drop from her shoulders and stoop a step back beside Anya. Looking back at Faith with her stiletto heels that Buffy admired, but wouldn't be caught dead in and long bronzed legs; she wondered what she was really doing here. Sure, she would like to have this part, all because it was a challenge and didn't come easy to her like most of them did, but she prayed that this Spike guy knew what he was doing. What kind of name was Spike anyway? It sounded like a forty year old punk rocker that was still stuck in the 1980s. Buffy took a deep breath, still unsure about the whole thing and held onto her purse strap with a death grip.

"Spike!" Faith yelled again back into the studio for the second time. She smirked at Buffy and started to ask the questions. "Where do I know you from? You look familiar."

"She's Buffy Summers, Faith," Anya elaborated.

"I get that Anya."

"She's Buffy Summers, the newest Hollywood "It" girl who just got nominated for six Golden Globes," Anya emphasized, beating Xander to the information as she knew exactly who Buffy was. Anya went even further when it still didn't register in Faith's mind who she was. "She was just in that movie, _Family Business_ with Mel Gibson…"

"Oh, yea, now I remember. Mel wasn't that good, but you were."

"Thanks."

"William Richard Alan Bartlett! Get out here now!" Faith yelled again, revealing Spike's full name. The beaded curtain swung to the side and boot heels clicked on the hardwood floors as a bleached blonde, blue eyed, chiseled chin man walked into the entranceway, making it feel even more crowded than it was. Blue eyes and blond hair, that definitely wasn't Buffy's type, but she couldn't help admitting to herself that he was handsome…for a guy named Spike.

She usually went for the dark-haired-dark-eyed-look-like-they-came-from-the-Italian-mafia-family types, but Buffy swooned when Spike stopped two feet away from her. The best of the best, son of the infamous Richard Bartlett was standing in front of her and talk about nerves – seeing him and the thought of their bodies touching in any way, shape or form made her second guess this plan for the billionth time since Xander mentioned it the other day. Heck the only thing missing from this guy was an accent. Then he spoke.

"Yes mother," Spike directed towards Faith, acknowledging Xander and looking back at Buffy. Yep, she was definitely in trouble.

Her hands trembled: that was the first thing he noticed. He was prepared for her to be a horrible dancer like Xander had explained to him over the phone yesterday but he wasn't prepared for her nerves. Clenching her soft, thin fingers into his palm, Spike smirked as he signaled for Faith to start the music.

"Now Buffy, I want you to relax," Spike told her as the stereo played an elegant waltz over the speakers.

"I am," she told him.

"Really? Hmmm…" Spike put Buffy's arms and hands in place on his body again and looked down at her. "This is a waltz and it's very simple. The counts are one two three, one two three, one two three four, okay?"

"Yeah," her nerves made it through to her voice, sharing with him the worry that she contained within herself.

"Okay, just try and relax and follow my lead," Spike paused, gearing himself up for the start of their first dance together. On the first beat his feet stepped towards her, but hers didn't and they started over again after her _sorry's_ died down. "When I go forward, you go back and when I go back, you go forward, got that?"

"Yea," she quipped and looked down at her feet again.

Starting to move his feet again, he lifted her chin up so her eyes met his. "Look at me," he said as they made it three steps before she stepped on his toes.

"Sorry, sorry."

"It's okay," Spike laughed his words out and let her arms down from his frame. He looked her up and down and reassessed what kind of miracle that he was going to need to pull this off. "Xander, my office please."

Spike walked back across the studio floor, leaving Buffy there with Faith while Xander followed him. Closing the door after Xander entered, he closed the door and turned to face him, laughing a bit more. She may be Hollywood's "It" girl, but she was a horrible dancer. They had tried to start two simple dances: the waltz and an effortless slow dance, both of which lasted a total of four beats. "A chimpanzee could dance better than her."

"I know, I know she's bad," Xander tried to reason with Spike.

"Bad? Xander, bad doesn't even begin to cover it."

"I know, but she needs to learn and God help me for saying this to your face, but you're the best and you're the only one who can teach her."

"Was that a compliment Harris?" Spike brought his gaze up to Xander and was just as surprised as him that he said it. Looking back out the glass wall between his office and the studio, he watched as Faith showed Buffy around the small but sufficient dance studio. "When's her audition?"

"Seven weeks."

"Seven weeks?"

"Yea."

"Okay, but she's going to have to put in some long hours."

"She will, I promise," Xander reassured Spike. Spike looked back out of the glass wall and watched as Faith showed Buffy around their small studio and prayed that he was up for this.

Smiling to himself, he looked back over at Xander who was standing beside him, looking at the same girl and observing her. He still couldn't believe he was doing this, but somewhere inside of him, he wanted to give her a chance. "She starts tomorrow morning, eight thirty sharp."

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Author's Note: Here's the second part for A Step In Time. Thank you all for the wonderful feedback that I received on the first part of the fic. However, I don't know when I'll be able to update this again becuase of my other fiction standalones and serials that I have going on at the moment. But, again, I hope you enjoy this part. 


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